


Questions & Answers

by afteriwake



Series: Where Speech Ends [7]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-25
Updated: 2015-06-25
Packaged: 2018-04-06 04:06:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4207251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afteriwake/pseuds/afteriwake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock and Molly have been keeping their relationship very quiet, and on one of their dates at Molly's flat they play a game of questions that leads to something she's wanted to have happen quite badly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Questions & Answers

**Author's Note:**

  * For [horrorfangirl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/horrorfangirl/gifts).



> So this fic is inspired by the song "Deeper Conversation" by Yuna (who is an artist I recommend 100% if you're looking for female singers with gorgeous voices) and this song, while a tad bit on the sad sounding side, has always been one I associated with the type of conversations I imagine Sherlock and Molly have: learning simple things at first and then moving on to the more profound questions.

**Where would you bury hidden treasure if you had some?**

Between asking her out on a date and the date itself, Sherlock had thought it best if they pretended to simply be friends while they were in public. She had been a bit disappointed but she could see his reasoning; Moriarty was on the loose and playing yet another game with Sherlock, and if he realized Molly was more important to him than simply being a friend she would be a very enticing target. So dinner out had become takeaway and an impromptu violin concert at 221B Baker Street. It had actually been quite lovely, and seeing Sherlock actually be nervous was quite endearing. She'd ended the evening with a kiss on the cheek since he didn't appear to have the inclination to give her a proper kiss goodnight and then she'd gone home.

There had been shared lunches in her office at St. Bart's when time permitted and dinners at either one of their homes. They had only gone out once, but that was with John and Mary as well, and the two of them acted as though they were friends invited to spend time with a couple rather than being on a double date. It made the evening a little less fun, but not much. There had been hesitation when Sherlock had taken her home of whether he should come inside to finish off the evening and though he had declined he had kissed her cheek softly before he left. She had grinned and was glad there was progress in the goodnight kiss department.

She knew he could kiss; she'd ended up in the rather uncomfortable position of being near Janine during Mary's baby shower. Everyone had questions for her about the infamous Sherlock Holmes and she spilled details with ease while Molly stayed in the background, drinking her wine and trying to figure out the best way to make a graceful exit before she found some cellophane and slapped it on Janine's mouth. Mary took pity on her and told her the truth, that Janine had wildly exaggerated the details of her intimate relationship with Sherlock. The most she'd gotten were some rather good kisses and that was it. Sherlock had confirmed it himself later, and she realized she'd gotten jealous over nothing. Of course, he hadn't kissed _her_ yet so there was that.

Tonight was their fifth actual date. Twelfth, if you counted the lunches at the hospital, which she wasn't sure she should. They'd just enjoyed a meal at her home that she'd cooked for him and now they were relaxing. She could have easily gotten takeaway and he'd have been content with that but she wanted to impress him. Her mother had adored French cuisine and taught Molly how to make quite a few easy but impressive dishes from a very young age. Tonight she had made Petite Blanquette de Poulet a l'Estragon paired with mushrooms sautéed in a red wine and a salad. Sherlock had definitely looked impressed and eaten everything on his plate. He'd volunteered to take care of the dishes and now that he was finished they were sitting on her small sofa, enjoying music and relaxing. She was trying to figure out the next topic of conversation when one of her favorite songs came on. Sherlock had been talking, but he tapered into silence when the first few lines were sung, being completely quiet by the chorus.

_And if you don't mind can you tell me all your hopes and fears_  
_And everything that you believe in_  
_Would you make a difference in the world_  
_I'd love for you to take me to a deeper conversations_  
_Only you can make me_

_I've let my guard down for you_  
_And in time you will too_

“We should play a game,” Molly said, picking up her wine and taking a sip of it as the repetition of the chorus began. “Not a board game, though. A question game.”

“All right,” he said with a nod. “We should start with easy questions and work our way up to harder questions. We can start with the ones that were at the beginning of this song.”

“There are ways we can make it interesting, though,” she said, tilting her head slightly. “Some sort of a dare if you don't want to answer a question, perhaps.”

“I doubt there will be a question I'm not comfortable answering so I'll agree to that,” he said with a slight smirk.

“Oh, this is going to be fun, then,” she said, taking a sip of her wine. “I'll start. Is your favorite color blue?”

He shook his head. “My favorite color is red. Usually the darker shades are what I prefer.” He picked up his water and took a sip. “Do you always tell the truth?”

“Most of the time, but not always. I'm guilty of telling the white lies that are acceptable in polite society, and then of course I lied to the entire world about you really being dead.”

“A lie I am very glad you were able to tell well,” he said.

“I think Phillip suspected I was lying,” she said. “He was thoroughly convinced you were alive and that I had something to do with it.”

“I _may_ have had a hand in that,” he admitted. “I couldn't resist tweaking his nose when I found out he suspected I'd faked it. I left tiny nuggets for him to find, though I hadn't expected it to become as big as it did. It made things harder towards the end.” He leaned back into the sofa. “Your turn.”

“It's a question I'm actually curious about, because I remember John saying something about how astronomy was not something you knew a lot about. Do you believe in outer space?” she asked.

“I believe in outer space because I can see it when I look up at the night sky, and there are telescopes and satellites taking pictures that show it in its glory,” he said. “But if you mean do I believe in _life_ in outer space? No, I do not.”

“I expected that much,” she said with a smile.

“I learned more about outer space while I was gone,” he said. “The names of specific constellations in relation to Greek mythology, mostly because I spent some time in Greece and it seemed the thing to do.”

“I would love to go to Greece,” she said. “I want to see the ruins and the statues and all of that.”

“It really isn't all it's cracked up to be,” he said. “If I could go back to any place I was in I would go to New York. That city truly is alive. It has a distinct heartbeat all its own.”

“Oh, that sounds wonderfully poetic,” she said.

“Perhaps I can sound as though I have a poetic bone in my body sometimes,” he said thoughtfully. He looked at her intently. “Maybe one day I could show you the places I spent time.”

“In New York?” she asked.

He nodded. “And maybe other cities as well.”

“I would like that a lot,” she said with a wide smile, reaching over to lay a hand on his arm and squeezing it. “Your turn now.”

“My turn?” he said, not looking up from her hand.

“To ask the next question from the song.”

“Oh,” he said, looking up. “I believe it is if your skin is as tan as mine.”

“You're much tanner than I am. I'm not incredibly pale, mind you, but I am paler than you.” She removed her hand and set it on the cushion. “Does your hair flow sideways?”

“My hair does whatever it damn well pleases, but flowing sideways is not something it does,” he said, much to her amusement. She laughed, and he grinned a bit. “You have a very nice laugh. I don't think I've told you that before.”

“Thank you,” he said. “I like this grin on your face right now. It looks...real. Genuine, I mean. Not like one of your fake ones.”

“It's because it is genuine,” he said. “I'm enjoying myself right now.”

“I'm glad,” she said before having some more wine. “I think there are two more questions to ask from the song.”

“That depends on how you interpret the chorus,” he said. “You could take the first two lines as a question on its own.”

She thought for a moment. “But those are more serious questions,” she said.

“Then we can save them for later,” he said. “The last one from the opening verses is serious as well. It's a question of matters of the heart.”

“Then we'll save that one as well,” she said. “So I suppose you get to come up with your own question.”

“Very well,” he said with a nod. He was quiet for a moment. “What was your first word?”

“Abba, which was the name my mum called my great-grandmum. They were trying to get me to use it for my grandmum.”

“Did it stick?” he asked.

“That's two questions,” she teased.

“Then you can ask me two in return, for fairness sake,” he said. “I'm curious.”

“All right. And yes, it stuck. My grandmum died when I was six, so I don't remember her well, but I remember her smile when I called her Abba. She adored it.” She thought for a moment. “What were things you liked as a child?”

“I was very into pirates for a long time,” he said. “I used to dress up as Blackbeard and terrorize my brother with my trusted pirate sidekick Redbeard. That would have been my dog, to save you a question.”

“Oh, I'd always wanted a dog when I was young,” she said. “But my mother was allergic. One day, maybe. I still have Toby to take care of right now and he's quite greedy with my attention.” She tilted her head slightly. “Where would you bury hidden treasure if you had some?”

“If there are still uninhabited islands in the Bahamas probably there,” he said. “The weather is infinitely better, and if I had enough treasure I could buy the island and fortify it, build a home there.”

“But you probably wouldn't have much treasure left,” she said.

“Then I would just have to find more,” he said.

“I can picture you as a pirate,” she said. “With an eyepatch and the loose white shirt and extravagant coat. And breeches. I think you'd look quite smashing in those.”

“As long as I get the hat with the feather in it I'd deal with breeches,” he said, leaning towards her. “The hat was the best part.”

“I always thought so too,” she said, leaning in close as well.

He looked at her intently for a moment, studying her. “It's my turn to ask a question, correct?” he asked.

“Yes,” she said, nodding.

“Did someone take a portion of your heart?” he asked quietly.

“I thought we were skipping those questions for now,” she said, frowning slightly.

“I was curious,” he replied.

She was quiet for a long moment. It was him who had taken it, but she wasn't sure she wanted to share that with him, not right now. “Someone did,” she said finally, hoping he would leave it at that.

“Who?” he asked.

“I...” she began, and then stopped and pulled away slightly. “I don't want to answer that.”

He looked down. “I'm sorry I asked.”

“No, it's...it's all right.” she said. “I just...it doesn't matter. I mean, it does, but it doesn't. Which is probably making you even more curious, I know that.”

“It wasn't even my turn to ask, since you'd answered my first question,” he said. “You're well within your right to refuse to answer.”

She nodded. She wasn't sure she wanted to keep playing this game anymore. “Thank you.”

“We can do something else, if you'd prefer,” he said, and she relaxed.

“I'd like that,” she said, giving him a relieved smile. After a moment's hesitation she leaned in and kissed his cheek softly. “Thank you. Again.”

“Molly?” he said quietly.

“Yes?” she asked, pulling back slightly and looking at him.

“I would appreciate it if the next time you kissed me it wasn't on the cheek,” he said, studying her intently.

“Do you want me to _kiss_ you kiss you?” she asked, surprised.

“Or I could kiss you,” he said. “I'd considered it since the night we were out with John and Mary. I'd rather beat myself up for not actually doing it that night.”

She found herself smiling at that. “Well, you're more than welcome to do it now,” she said.

“All right.” He shifted his position slightly as she sat up more, and he reached over to tangle his fingers in her hair. She leaned in as he did and he pressed his lips against hers. He actually had very soft lips, she realized. She would have been content to keep the kiss very light but he increased the pressure slightly, and she found herself opening her mouth in response. And that was all the permission he needed to ramp the kiss up to something that made her toes curl. She reached forward and clung to him as he pulled her closer, nearly pulling her onto his lap, and they kissed until they absolutely had to pull apart. “Well?” he asked quietly as he caught his breath.

“I would say that was quite a magnificent kiss,” she said with a smile. “But I think when I catch my breath I should have another one, for comparisons sake.”

“I think I can arrange that,” he said with a grin of his own before kissing her again. This, she decided, was infinitely better than playing a game of questions, and if they spent the rest of the night doing this then she could honestly die quite happy, if it came down to it. She hoped she didn't, though, because she wanted to do this as often as possible.


End file.
